As a lifeguard, we get a wide variety of people and animals at our beach; confused Russian tourist families, wild ducks, weddings, kids who eat sand, drunken college kids, and, my personal favorite, dogs.

This last Thursday, a happy-go-lucky dog wandered onto our beach, off-leash (not allowed), alone (not allowed), and jumped straight into the water (also not allowed). Being self proclaimed dog lovers, my coworker and I immediately ran over and started petting her. When her owner did not wander over to claim her in the next fifteen minutes, we called the number on her tag. The owner stated that she had "gone to the store" and usually leaves her dog there. Weird, right? Well then the dog ran away. Oops.

An hour or two before we closed, she came back. Lady, the gorgeous Siberian Husky, reappeared and, of course, jumped right back into the water. We made a makeshift leash for her out of a rescue tube and sat with her until her owner came to pick her up. Best twenty minutes of my life. She ran around, licked us, jumped on us, and took selfies with us.

"Sorry I was late, I was on the phone with the midwife, my wife is in labor with contractions and everything."

What? Excuse me?

Lady's owner, a man with a British accent, found us at the beach and causally mentioned that his wife is having their first child. He stuck around and talked to us for a solid ten minutes about whether we enjoy lifeguard and how our day was going. Then he sprinted off to witness his daughter's birth. Weird, right?

The next day, he came by and showed me a photo of his daughter, Olivia, who was born at 1:30 am that following morning.

Things are not what they seem. We thought it was an incompetent dog owner, but there were so many more variables at play.